ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ (spellcasts) wrote in summerview, @ 2019-02-19 12:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | lennon wayland, zjames byrne |
waiting for the moon
Who: James & Lennon
What: Meeting a newcomer
When: Maybe like the 13th or so
Where: The Long Way Down
Rating: Low
Status: Complete
Now, let’s get one thing straight here. James wasn’t particularly picky about where he went to give himself a boozy fix, though he had to admit that he rather enjoyed a certain type of establishment frequented back ‘home,’ there in Belfast. It was a city that had changed a lot over the past however many years, but even then, there were some places that stood the test of time. Like the pubs that held fast to their old-world, 1800s charm - his favourite place was over two-hundred years old, in fact. The booths were comfortable and mahogany, and you could easily shut the world away while sipping on a pint. Sometimes, even men as confident as he needed to be alone - despite how he loathed being alone. It was an interesting contradiction, but he offered no apologies for those. The Long Way Down suited his purposes - it wasn’t a religious experience but it was a bar, and when he wanted to drink he went to a bar. Though, really, you couldn’t pay him enough to touch the Valentine’s Day-themed cocktails. Anything with bloody Strawberry Quik sounded like rotting teeth or a stomachache, so he’d pass. For now, he started with whiskey, Jameson, and while he could drink it from the bottle just fine he at least had it poured into a glass here. Not on the rocks - ruining whiskey in such a way was a tragedy. Why bother killing the flavour of ashtrays and medicine? Sipping his first drink of the evening, he waited for no one in particular, a long and lean form with a black leather jacket and blue velvet eyes that stared down into his glass. No, this wasn’t depressing, not in the slightest. Of course not. It had been a long week. Lennon had moved into Cohen’s apartment, taking up residence in his guest bedroom. She had unpacked the small U-Haul trailer that had all her belongings in it; anything she didn’t need right away, she packed away into a storage shed. It wasn’t that she had a whole lot, but she had grabbed lots of things that had belonged to her parents, anything that had looked important, family momentos, photos, jewelry. Then she had had all of her clothing and items of her own. With being a traveler and not settling down anywhere, she didn’t have much for just herself. She had also found a job and that seemed to be working out so far. She was doing well and seemed to be fitting right in. It was always easy for her, to fit right into things, to become a person that just seemed as if they had always been there. Tonight, though, she was off and staying at the apartment wasn’t in the cards for her. She needed to learn about the town, to find all the hot and fun spots, to get to know people. And that was how she ended up at The Long Way Down, not to mention that she had saw their post on the social web site. Having walked up to the bar and ordering herself a beer, she caught sight of a gentleman that seemed to be alone and just watching his drink. She watched him for a moment, wondering if he were praying over his drink or just thinking really hard about whether to drink it or not. Once her beer was in her hand, she took the seat next to him. “You should drink it,” she said and then took a drink of her own. “Unless, of course, you’ve been stood up and then you should really drink it.” James glanced up, hand rubbing over his jaw and the black shadowy bristle that crawled along the bone - it was a strategic sort of thing, he tended to groom his facial scruff in a way that suited him. When he was completely clean-shaven, he looked bright-eyed and babyfaced. It wasn’t something he preferred. Those eyes took in the girl who had spoken to him, and his senses picked up on something as well - his sense of the arcane, that is. Magic, and the spice of it which prickled his nose. She was a witch too, but - something else in addition to that. How curious. “I haven’t been stood up, love. Just having a think in a bar,” he promised, chuckling at the thought. He hadn’t made any plans, so no danger of that happening. “But at any rate, you’re here now and it would be rude not to give such a lovely lass my full attention,” he smiled, and it was sharp as salt. Dark things and confidence. When the mystery man’s eyes met her own, she thought about how gorgeous they were while another sense told her that this man was something like her. Not a Unicorn, of course, but he was full of magick and her magick could sense how strong his was. “Yeah, you’re probably not the type that does get stood up,” she mused. No, he was rather good looking with just the right amount of facial hair that made you want to rub your cheek against his. She took a drink and wondered if she really did have his full attention or if he was buttering her up. Guess she would find out. HIs smile gave a shiver down her spine and she hid it by moving slightly in her seat. “I do like it when a good-looking man gives me his undivided attention,” she said with a sly smirk. “I’m Lennon Wayland, new to town,” she said by way of introduction. “It’s a pleasure, Lennon. I’m James,” he extended his hand, taking hers in his to plant a kiss on her knuckles. “Not quite new. I’ve been here a little over a year.” But it had been a rather interesting year at that - he’d learned a bit about his family history, yet he still had a feeling there was much more to discover. About the past, and what he wanted in the present and for the future as well. He sipped his whiskey - grain, wood, and spice. Just the way he liked it. Sometimes he preferred something sweeter, but not right now. Sweetness was lost on him. “What brings you to our quaint little island? And people have been hospitable, I hope?” “Why do I think the pleasure might be all mine?” Lennon smiled as she took his hand, eyebrows raising as he kissed her knuckles. Yeah, pleasure was all hers. She’d never had another guy kiss her hand like that, guys just didn’t do that, guys she knew were not charming. She had definitely been meeting the wrong men. “Everyone has been very friendly,” she nodded. “I’m here because my brother, Cohen, is here, I had to deliver some news to him in person and, well, I don’t think he’s too thrilled I’m here but…” she shrugged. “Lots of history there.” Or maybe lack of history. She and no history with Cohen, not the type that siblings should have anyway. “What brought you here?” Sibling discord? How intriguing. “I’m an only child as far as I know,” James said - and he only added that ‘as far as I know’ clarification because his father was someone who definitely should not have spawned, which meant it was possible he did it more than once. James’ mother had died when he was just born, and he doubted his father had been celibate until he too kicked the bucket. But anyway. “However, I do know about complicated family matters so you have my sympathy,” he said. “As for what brought me here...” He swallowed another mouthful of whiskey, indicating to the bartender that he wanted another. And also indicated that the lady’s second drink, whatever she wanted, was going to be on him. “Recommendation from the coven I was with. They wanted me to expand my horizons, and I agreed it might be a good idea, so here I am.” And here he stayed, for now. Lennon almost told James that she had been the only child as far as she knew until Cohen had showed up on their doorstep, but she caught herself. Cohen might not want their dirty laundry aired and she didn’t know James to tell him something so personal. Instead she smiled and nodded her head. “I’m not sure complicated covers it, but thank you,” she chuckled. How hers and Cohen’s family came to be was messed up and was one of those things that you heard in the news from time to time. When he ordered more drinks, she just held up her beer bottle to show what she wanted. She wasn’t nearly refined and though she really did love her some whiskey she knew beer was a safer bet for her on her first night out on the town. Her interest showed when he spoke of a coven and she looked at him more openly. “Ahh, I thought I sensed your magick,” she smiled. “So you’re expanding your horizons because why? I’m a traveler, my horizons are expanded quiet well,” she chuckled. “I thought I sensed yours too,” James volleyed back with a smile, a crinkle of cobalt eyes. “It’s quite interesting, actually. A witch’s magic has a distinct feel to it.” Dark confidence, secrets tucked away, dried herbs hanging in bundles. Smoke and spice - and for him, it was a lot of both. “But yours has something else.” He really itched for a cigarette but settled for the second glass of whiskey, beginning to nurse that one too. Without simply pouring it down his gullet. “I didn’t actually know much about my magic before moving to the States,” he explained. “Well, knowledge is power as they say. I thought coming here would shed some light on my family history.” And ever since he’d gotten his life together (for the most part), his magic wasn’t so...dangerous. Untamed. It felt less like a caged tiger, as long as he kept himself fed and well-rested and as stress-free as possible, which was always difficult as one could imagine. “Mmhmm,” Lennon nodded about her magic being mixed with something else. “But you’ll have to figure that out on your own,” she said with a coy smile. She didn’t really ever tell people what she was, of course mostly it would get her in trouble, but it was also fun to tease a little bit. “Hopefully it doesn’t bother you that I am a ‘half-breed’,” she used air quotes. “I’ve come across a few witches in my travels that find it disgusting, but really I’m just as powerful as some,” she shrugged. It had never bothered her about being half witch and half unicorn, it seemed the unicorn side of her gave her witch side a good helping boost. “Ireland, right?” She’d been there once. She’d backpacked through the UK one summer and it had been so fun. It was hard to miss that gorgeous accent of his and it added to his charm. Him saying he hadn’t known about what he was before coming to the states told her that he’d gone without parents, or maybe the bloodline had skipped a generation. She’d been lucky enough that her mother had taught her everything and had even handed down her spellbook that came down from generations of witches on her mother’s side. “Have you found anything on your family history?” She asked, interested. James chortled a bit. “I like a challenge, so cheers,” he tipped his glass in Lennon’s direction, a wink confirmation of acceptance of that challenge too. He’d eventually figure out what her other half was - it would be like a fun game, no? “And people who call you such things are utterly moronic. You can’t help what you are.” Really, he gave no fucks - she was fun and gorgeous, so what did it matter? She could be the Hunchback of Notre Dame for all he cared. His accent probably was telling. It was very Irish, but being that he was from Belfast it had that Northern touch which made it unique - with Scottish and English influences, the greenery of the Midlands. Also very difficult to mimic - just ask Brad Pitt, the Yank actor who fucked it up in one of his films. But the accent was a cross between heavy and dulcet; he never heard any complaints about it, either way. “Aye,” he confirmed, after taking another drink. “Northern Ireland, specifically. I’m from Belfast but I’ve traveled all around the UK. Well, I discovered I have Fae blood?” That had been quite a surprise. He was eager to learn more about the Hob, specifically, and potentially learn some Fae magic. Except he hadn’t heard from Shara lately - perhaps she was just busy with the bakery. “Very diluted, of course,” he shrugged. “It goes back thousands of years.” Lennon giggled at James accepting the challenge. This could be fun, she thought, but only if he really tried to figure her out. It would mean he would have to get to know her more than just a meeting in a bar, they would have to become friends at the very least. Unless he guessed right away, and that wouldn’t be any fun at all. “I’ll try to make it as challenging as I can,” she grinned. She had finished off her one beer and set the empty bottle down and picked up the other, sipping at it as she listened. She had a feeling that she could listen to him all day and all night. His voice was just that great, the accent adding to it and pleasing to her ears. Yeah, she was going to have a slight crush on this one, she thought. “Fae blood? Really?” She asked, canting her head slightly to her right as she took him in. “That’s interesting and probably adds a little pizzazz to your magick, even if it’s diluted.” It was interesting, though not unheard of. “I do like a little pizzazz with my magic,” James agreed. “I think it makes sense, considering it’s the Hob sect - food is apparently their thing, and it’s mine too. I’m the head chef at In Vino Veritas.” He wasn’t professionally trained or anything, more like he’d learned through the School of Life - but he was damn good at what he did, good with flavours and spice and understanding the art of food, and he wasn’t prone to false modesty when it came to that aspect of himself either. “But enough about me,” he spun on his stool a little, fully facing Lennon, gaze settling upon her. “Tell me more about yourself, love? What do you do for fun?” And he was oh-so-curious to find out, too. “Oh nooooo,” Lennon groaned teasingly. “You’re the competition. I just took a waitressing job at Bodin’s,” she explained. “I’m sorry, but our relationship will have to be strictly secret now,” she said and then grinned, clearly joking. She didn’t know if there was big competition here or not and she wasn’t sure she would care either way. “I’ll definitely be in soon to see just how good your food is.” “Me? Oh.. hmm…” she canted her head to the side again and thought of what to tell him about herself. “Well, I’m pretty sure I have gypsy blood,” she chuckled. “I’ve been traveling since...well, for at least the last ten years. After my first year of college ended I went on the road doing odd jobs to get me by. I’ve been to the Ireland, backpacking through Europe, I’ve been to Africa, China and Japan, several places in the States of course…” she trailed off and shrugged her shoulders. “While I’m here, I’ll be driving my half-brother mad, I’m sure, so that might be fun,” she said, though there was a slight frown to it. She would like to be closer to him, but she knew that was going to take some time if it even happened. “Other than that, I suppose I’m pretty boring. Just a girl making her way through life and trying to have fun as she does so.” The competition, my god. At least Lennon didn’t work at The Long Way Down. “Boudin is a hot spot, and now that I know you work there it’ll give me an excuse to come by more often,” James stated. He did enjoy Cajun cuisine - it was steeped in history and so much culture. Plus a good bowl of gumbo or some nice, warm bread pudding were the ultimate in comfort food. “And that doesn’t sound boring at all, love. I like a little adventure myself. In fact - “ James reached for a napkin, clicking a pen he had in the pocket of his leather jacket to scroll down his digits. Mobile phone digits, that is. The napkin was passed over to Lennon. “If you feel up to having some company on your next adventure, drop me a line.” “Hope you’re a good tipper,” Lennon chuckled. She lifted a hand to brush hair over her shoulder, tucking it behind an ear. It would be nice if he did visit Boudin’s, but she wasn’t sure that he would. James giving her his number was definitely a surprise, especially because he did it old school. She took the napkin and looked at the number before looking back up at him. “I’ll be sure to call,” she nodded. “Maybe we can find some troubling fun together.” She didn’t offer her number, but she knew she’d be sending him a text soon enough so he could save it. Troubling fun together, now wouldn’t that be a treat? He trusted that Lennon would call or text - and he’d certainly be going by Boudin to try the gumbo (and see her, of course). She was delightful, and he quite liked her spirit already. “Sounds like a plan, darling,” he nodded, finishing off his whiskey. “Until next time, then?” “Until next time,” Lennon said with a nod. She felt good. He seemed genuine and it was nice to meet another witch. She needed witches in her life and she wondered if there were a coven here. That was something she could ask Cohen maybe. She would need something like family, especially if Cohen still continues to treat her as if she didn’t exist. |